


oh, what a tangled web we weave

by eloboosting



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, SKT T1 is pretty much bengi's harem, Sexual Inexperience, also a jealous voyeur, bengay, eventual gratuitous smut, faker's kind of a cockblock, five times fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-01 10:19:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8620714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloboosting/pseuds/eloboosting
Summary: Seongwoong's five firsts. Or, how Seongwoong learned to stop worrying and love his inner sex fiend.





	1. want to hold your hand

**Author's Note:**

> tbt to a time when I was too ashamed/afraid/nervous about writing porn and then I decided to force myself to practice and oh, here we are. no, seriously, this was all a practice exercise that grew very quickly
> 
> (and god, Bengi showed up at semis (and finals!), and even when I’m heartbroken I’m so happy to see him back in form. also, happy birthday to him, lmao)

Even though Gwangjin is barely a year younger than him, he’s needier than the rest of his younger teammates. He always bothers Seongwoong, telling him to buy him food, to take care of him like a good hyung.

Seongwoong doesn’t really mind—it’s not like he has very much else to spend his money on. He’s just unused to the responsibility and pressure that comes with being a hyung—at least, the hyung that Gwangjin apparently expects him to be. But there’s a cuter side to Gwangjin as well, the sweet kid who just wants approval and praise.

“You bought the wrong flavor,” Gwangjin scolds him one time, huffing as he grabs Seongwoong by the wrist and drags him back to the vending machine.

“I wanted lemon tea, not black,” he says, snagging Seongwoong’s wallet from his pocket to insert the coins into the machine while Seongwoong stands by his side, still a little shell-shocked. Gwangjin leans down to grab his bottle, pushing the black tea into Seongwoong’s hands. “You’ll have to drink this now.”

“I don’t like black tea either,” he says belatedly, staring down at the drink in his hands. “I’m not even thirsty.”

Gwangjin shrugs, tugging by the arm again back to their practice room. “Too bad.”

Seongwoong looks back down at the bottle of black tea and sighs, handing it off to Sanghyeok who takes it with a confused glance that eventually morphs into a curt nod and thank you. Maybe this is just one of those unwritten rules about being a hyung—thinking you have power but really being bullied around by those younger than you.

But when Gwangjin untwists the cap of his tea to take a gulp, he silently offers it up to Seongwoong after, almost like a truce. “You can share mine.”

He looks up from his computer, a little surprised at Gwangjin for the offer. But Gwangjin is busy staring at his own screen, tapping at his keys and pretending to be concentrating even when Seongwoong can see the gray tint to his display and his death timer slowly ticking down.

“Thanks,” he says instead, wraps his fingers around the neck of the bottle while he pretends to not see the small smile on Gwangjin’s face.

-

They’ve been a proper team for only a few months the first time Gwangjin reaches out to hook their arms together, snuggling closer to him while they sit on one of the couches in the waiting room. The stage is still new, still blinding and anxiety-inducing—but it’s not as bad as that terrifying first time when Seongwoong had wanted to duck under his desk and hurl.  Now, they’ve all managed to find some figment of relaxation while they wait for their turn to play.  

“It’s cold in here,” Gwangjin complains, and Seongwoong lets himself be dragged and maneuvered into position deemed comfortable for Gwangjin.

He still has a free hand to scroll through his phone, thumbing at the screen absentmindedly while he feels Gwangjin shift against his shoulder. He almost expects it when Gwangjin says, “Hyung,” whiny as he tugs at Seongwoong's arm. It's something Seongwoong's become used to in the past few months, and he sighs as he leans over to rest his head on Gwangjin's.

"What is it?" he asks patiently, lets Gwangjin sneakily entwine their fingers together.

Gwangjin shakes his head under him, shifts away so he can frown at Seongwoong. "I'm bored," he complains. "Do something."

If there's one thing that Seongwoong's learned about Gwangjin over the past few months; he has a short attention span for anything other than League and bothering Seongwoong, apparently. "Oh?" he asks with one eyebrow raised. He lifts his free hand and quickly worms it around so it's digging into Gwangjin's side, until Gwangjin is twisting and wiggling underneath him, giggling and yelling at him to stop. "Like this?"

"No," Gwangjin whines, trying to pull away even as Seongwoong clasps their hands tighter together. "Hyung!"

“You wanted me to entertain you,” he says lightly, laughing as Gwangjin squirms around like worm caught on a hook, finally letting go of Seongwoong’s hand and scooting far down the couch until he’s nearly in the lap of a confused Eonyeong.

“Stop it,” Gwangjin insists, even daring to strike out with a leg to ward Seongwoong’s hands away. “That’s not funny.”

“Okay, okay,” he says, bringing his hands up. “I’ll stop, promise.”

Gwangjin eyes him suspiciously for all of thirty seconds before he’s diving back over to Seongwoong’s side of the couch, leaving Eonyeong blissfully alone again. “Only because Eonyeong is even more boring,” he says, while Eonyeong glares balefully back. Gwangjin worms their hands together again, and something in Seongwoong’s chest turns comfortably warm. “Old man.”

-

[(x)](http://pikaniuu.tumblr.com/post/76168240716/piglet-and-bengi-being-absolutely-adorable)

The media catches them after the Winter Finals, beating Ozone into the ground and grabbing another championship for themselves. Seongwoong doesn’t even notice when Gwangjin holds his hands these days, thinks of it as something like a good luck charm or a part of his daily routine.

Wake up, brush his teeth, stumble into the kitchen for something to eat while he waits for his computer to boot up, holding Gwangjin’s hand during queue—normal. It’s why it’s so startling when Gwangjin nearly throws his hands away once he realizes they’re in front of a camera.  He complains about looking like a gay couple, and Seongwoong laughs and plays along with it all the way until they’re safely backstage.

"We looked like a gay couple," Gwangjin bemoans, but that doesn’t stop him from grabbing hold of Seongwoong’s hand right as they make it backstage. "I can't believe they have that on camera."

"Yeah," Seongwoong says, looking at their clasped hands. "Me neither."

 

It's just normal skinship, Seongwoong tells himself a little later when he’s comfortably tucked in bed, even when his stomach does flips whenever he touches Gwangjin's hand. Sure, it certainly doesn’t _feel_ like regular skinship; but in the end, even if Seongwoong wants more, Gwangjin only has space for two loves: League and Jeonghyeon.

Because no matter how much Gwangjin narrows his eyes at any mention of Jeonghyeon’s name, complains about how Jeonghyeon only loves his phone and refuses to pay him any attention—Seongwoong’s seen the longing looks Gwangjin will sometimes shoot his support, his single-minded quest to capture Jeonghyeon’s attention.

No, there’s no room for him. But Gwangjin’s hand is warm in his own, and the cocky smirk he shoots Seongwoong whenever he thinks he’s done something clever—well, that’s enough.

-

[(x)](https://twitter.com/sktelecom_t1/status/465221379332136960)

Even though he’s assigned to room with Sanghyeok during All Stars in Paris, Gwangjin still manages to sneak into bed, wrapping an arm around his stomach and curling against his side. “You’re comfy,” he mumbles sleepily, resting his head against Seongwoong’s shoulder.

Seongwoong figures it’ll be another night of cuddling Gwangjin in bed like usual—a sort of tradition they’ve started whenever they have stressful day of games ahead—and settles to fall back asleep again. But then Gwangjin presses closer, touches his forehead to Seongwoong's. "Hyung," he says, a little stilted, and his face is so close, and Seongwoong almost thinks—

He hears the shutter before it registers in his head, and both his and Gwangjin's heads whip up toward the doorway.

"We have a game tomorrow, you two need to rest," Coach Junggyun scolds them even when he's smiling with camera in hand. Sanghyeok peeks from the doorway behind, and Seongwoong suddenly feels bad for cutting into his teammate's sleep time, for making it too awkward for Sanghyeok to even come in and tell them himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [and they all fall down](http://i.imgur.com/ZpfJGhA.gif)


	2. kiss me beneath the milky twilight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finishing this part instead of studying for my quiz tomorrow...fml, my priorities.
> 
> title from sixpence none the richer "kiss me"

[(x)](http://i.imgur.com/yFSagwj.png)

Eonyeong is a good sport; playing along with all the skinship Seongwoong’s come to crave, passing it off under the guise of one giant game of gay chicken. Gwangjin’s not the only one that holds Seongwoong’s hand now, not with Eonyeong teasing them about it, grabbing Seongwoong’s hand as if to prove a point.

 

Eonyeong first challenges him when he catches Gwangjin pulling at his hand for the hundredth, millionth time, nagging for attention as always. Seongwoong sighs and hands over an earbud to Gwangjin, who finally seems content, leaning back into the couch and playing with his phone.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Eonyeong plop himself on his other side. "Hyung," Eonyeong says in a parody of Gwangjin, smirking at him as he pokes Seongwoong in the side, sending Seongwoong jerking away. Gwangjin lets out an irritated protest, tugging at their shared earbuds, glaring over at Eonyeong from Seongwoong’s other side. “Pay attention to me, too!”

Seongwoong looks over at him, one eyebrow raised in question, and Eonyeong cheerfully hooks Seongwoong’s free arm in his. He leans his head against Seongwoong’s shoulder, bats his eyelashes up at him. “Aren’t I pretty, too, hyung?”

“You’re a nuisance,” he says, and Eonyeong laughs. But he doesn’t pull his arm away, and Eonyeong keeps it as collateral for the rest of their break. He doesn’t move even when Gwangjin is called out to make-up.

“Will you ever give me my arm back?” Seongwoong asks patiently.

Eonyeong looks up at him with false innocence. “Don’t you love me as much as Gwangjin?”

He makes kissy faces at Seongwoong, who just lets his head fall back against the couch as he sighs, covering his face with a hand.

“You’re easy to tease, hyung,” he hears Eonyeong say, and something in him bristles at the casual flippancy. He feels Eonyeong’s grip on his arm lighten. “It’s no fun if you’re not going to—”

He quickly grabs Eonyeong’s wrist, brings it up to his face to kiss the back of his hand. He smirks at the surprised look on Eonyeong’s face. “Is that all you’ve got?”

Eonyeong slowly smiles back at him, leans over to nuzzle his head against Seongwoong’s shoulder. “Just getting started, hyung.”

-

Eonyeong starts draping his arms over Seongwoong wherever he can—in the practice room while Seongwoong is waiting in queue, during breaks when Seongwoong is laying on the couch playing on his phone, when they’re eating outside, e _verywhere._

He sits his chin on Seongwoong’s shoulder, opens his mouth and hums, “Ahhhhh.” Seongwoong doesn’t even pay him any mind anymore when he pushes some fries into Eonyeong’s waiting mouth, swiping at his phone while Eonyeong chews noisily near his ear.

“Don’t you have any table manners?” he asks, and Eonyeong huffs.

“I have plenty,” Eonyeong protests, sliding his arms around Seongwoong’s waist and hugging him close. “Don’t be so stingy.”

Seongwoong rolls his eyes when he passes more fries over into Eonyeong’s waiting mouth. “Freeloader.”

Eonyeong is kind enough to chew silently this time, and Seongwoong can feel him turn his head so his lips are right against Seongwoong’s neck. He can feel Eonyeong’s breath against his skin, hear him perfectly clearly when he murmurs out, “You’re so soft, hyung.”

He figures this is just a part of the game as usual, that Eonyeong will jump away once he’s done bothering Seongwoong. But he doesn’t, just settles his arms more securely around Seongwoong’s waist and huffs out another sigh that sends a tingle down Seongwoong’s back.

Seongwoong’s not sure what the rules of the game really are, but he has the distinct feeling it’s close to nearing territory he’s not sure either are ready to explore.

-

It's all a joke when Eonyeong cups his face, when Eonyeong tackles him to the couch and brushes his fingers along Seongwoong's chest. It's a joke when Eonyeong tips their faces together, Seongwoong pinned underneath him, their teammates chattering behind them, paying their game no mind. It’s all old news—that they’ll push and tease each other before getting right back to work.

Neither of them backs away, and when Eonyeong pushes closer, just enough that their lips are practically touching, Seongwoong just shuts his eyes and closes that last tiny gap.

And honestly, it's underwhelming.

It barely lasts a few seconds before Eonyeong is drawing away with a bashful smile. "I didn't think you'd actually do it," he says, but there's a slight glint in his eyes that Seongwoong tries not to read into.

Seongwoong tosses his head back. “Please,” he says airily, lets condescension drip from every word. “That was nothing. Come back when you’re ready to really play.”

“Okay.” Eonyeong raises an eyebrow, crosses his arms defensively. “After the game.”

And when they do finally make it home, Eonyeong actually follows through—pulls Seongwoong into the bedroom on an excuse of an afternoon nap while the rest of their team ignores them to continue practicing.

"Are you sure?" Eonyeong asks, and as soon as Seongwoong nods, he shuffles closer to press their lips together again. It's nice, intimate and sweet, and altogether frustratingly _lacking._

But then Eonyeong pushes his tongue in, and _this_ is starting to feel like what he expected of all the stories he's heard. He’s not going to be the one to back down—not sure if he _wants_ to back down, honestly—and Eonyeong lets out a small noise from the back of his throat.

He feels a hand run up his back to cup his neck, presses his face closer to Eonyeong’s like they have any more room to spare. Eonyeong is warm against him, mouth open and wet and perfect, and Seongwoong is aware that this is no longer just a game, that his stomach is really starting to ache with _something_ , and desperately hopes Eonyeong feels the same.

“Hyung,” Eonyeong gasps as they finally break apart. His eyes are dark, lips red as he licks them with his tongue, and Seongwoong cuts him off before he can say anything, rolls over onto his back and pulls Eonyeong on top of him, dragging his head down to kiss him again.

Maybe they should think this through, but Eonyeong feels good on top of him, sprawled out as he is, scrambling to get his legs under him.

Eonyeong pulls away again. “I didn’t want to stop,” he quickly says, brushes a hand over Seongwoong’s burning cheeks. “Just um—” He smiles bashfully, eyes crinkling up at the edges. “Not still a game, huh?”

“Yeah,” Seongwoong says, and Eonyeong dives down to peck him on the lips. “I’m fine with that if you are.”

“Hyung,” Eonyeong gasps, and then with disgustingly fake-cuteness. “You like me then?”

He drags Eonyeong’s face back down to meet his, punishes him with a harder kiss and bites down on his lip while Eonyeong laughs. He snakes a hand up Seongwoong’s shirt, fanning his fingers out against his stomach.  
  
They return back to making out, Eonyeong slowly sliding his hand up Seongwoong’s chest, dragging his shirt up with him. It’s definitely new to feel skin against his own, to know that this isn’t some accident but done with _purpose_ , and something heavy and intoxicating settles in Seongwoong’s stomach.

He’s getting turned on, cock semi-hard in his pants—and when he presses up, he can feel something hard in Eonyeong’s pants in return. He rubs up against it, groans into Eonyeong’s mouth—the making out is good, but he can't help but feel like he's left wanting _more_ , wants to thrust his hips up against Eonyeong until they're both truly satisfied.

That is, until he hears the sound of someone clearing his voice from the door.

Eonyeong freezes on top of him, and Seongwoong peeks over his shoulder to see Sanghyeok with his hand on the knob, staring at them with one eyebrow raised.

"It's time for dinner," he says dryly, adding a pointed, "Your nap seemed productive."

He smiles, laugh a little stilted. "Yeah."


	3. hand in my lap, that's not so bad

Seongwoong always feels vaguely like a cradle robber when he flirts with Yechan, pinches his cheeks and tickles his sides. Yechan is fresh to the League scene, exactly like Seongwoong just two years ago, and it makes Seongwoong feel so cripplingly old.

Jihoon and Sanghyeok are Yechan's supposed mentors, even when they're enraptured by the power struggle between them, silently fighting for the starter position while the coaches make no effort to enlighten them about who will be chosen. Jihoon's the one to pay Yechan slightly more attention, is infinitesimally more used to taking care of younger teammates, so maybe it shouldn't be a surprise that Yechan takes after him in champion pool as well.

In other things—the touching and cuddling and skinship, that's all on Seongwoong (and Junsik, Jaewan, and Jaehyeon to an extent.)

-

Yechan is one of the few people on the team that doesn’t _completely_ tower over Seongwoong—just a few inches above his perfectly average height. Gwangjin and Eonyeong, the two closest in height to him, are long gone, leaving just Sanghyeok and Seongwoong as the last remaining parts of K on the new SKT T1.

And somewhere along the line, Sanghyeok hits his growth spurt and leaves Seongwoong behind him.

There are times he misses both Gwangjin and Eonyeong—maybe it’s more accurate to say there aren’t very many times when he _doesn’t_ miss them—but especially during the downtime between games, when he could always count on one of them to ask him to play. He figures their new team will eventually mesh, but the stilted silence that surrounds them now while they play on their phones in the waiting room is stifling.

The first time he takes Yechan’s hand is an accident—when there’s an isolated hand just sitting on the couch, Seongwoong is going to cover it with his own. It’s a reflex ground into him over years by Gwangjin’s impatient teaching. Yechan looks up at him with wide eyes, like he expects it to be a prank that Seongwoong’s pulling on him, and Seongwoong _should_ let go, laugh it off as a joke, but something stops him.

“Hyung?” Yechan asks, and Seongwoong pats his head like he might a dog and tells him to keep playing on his phone.

Yechan gives one last glance to their joined hands before he shrugs, shifts to lean his head against Seongwoong’s shoulder. It’s comfortable and familiar, and it’s been months since Seongwoong’s had any of the physical affection he’s learned to crave, so he’ll take what he can.

-

 

Yechan is the one to kiss him first, tackles him down onto his bed leans down to kiss him. It’s short and sweet, and Seongwoong smiles up at him as he brushes Yechan’s hair out of his eyes.

"Hyung," Yechan says, suspiciously insouciant, and maybe he does take after Sanghyeok in some ways. “You’ve done this before, right?”

Seongwoong thinks back to his memories of his experimenting with Eonyeong and he blushes. “Yeah, of course.”

Yechan fiddles with the edge of his shirt, nervous even when his voice comes out confidently, “Would you want to—?”

“Anything you want,” he says, aiming for reassuring. It’s the same sort of arrogant bravado he’s seen Sanghyeok and Gwangjin give off when they're actually the most nervous—and it’s not something that will fool him.

Until Yechan smiles brightly at him, hands suddenly sure and poised as they unbutton Seongwoong’s pants, slipping under his briefs to grip his cock. Then, _then_ the air seems to become a little thinner and Seongwoong struggles to breathe as Yechan pushes his pants further down, reaches to undo his own fly.

“Um,” he manages, his own hands flailing at the ends of the bed, and Yechan finally looks up at him, pulling at his shirt while Seongwoong dutifully lifts his back to shuck it off.

Yechan doesn’t stop there, though, pulls at Seongwoong’s briefs until he does some incredibly unflattering flopping maneuver that allows Yechan to completely unclothe him.

“Oh,” he says as Yechan leans down to kiss him again, and this is familiar—albeit with much less clothing, but this is something Seongwoong _knows_ —

Until he feels Yechan’s hands stroking down his chest, tickling at his sides before they’re at his thighs and then—then they’re around his cock again and Seongwoong can’t help thrusting up into them.

"Is this okay?" Yechan asks him, glasses nearly slipping down his nose as he rubs a thumb over the head of Seongwoong's cock, twists his wrist expertly that has Seongwoong's eyes rolling back. "You look lost, hyung."

To be fair, Seongwoong _is_ lost, but he still manages to gasp out, "It's good—don't stop."

And Yechan doesn't stop at first, keeps jerking him off with tight, steady strokes until Seongwoong's sure he's just about to come, and then he does stop. But only to scoot out of his own briefs and rubbing his own cock against Seongwoong’s before he closes his hand around them again—and this is fine, this is _better_ , with Yechan’s cock slick and warm against his own and his hand so tight around them.

He feels useless, probably _is_ useless while Yechan does all the work, searches up blindly for Yechan’s lips to kiss him again when he comes all too incredibly quickly. But Yechan is close to follow, moaning into Seongwoong’s mouth, and Seongwoong’s hands, that had bene so uselessly lying to his side before, finally find the strength to wrap around Yechan, hug him to him when Yechan collapses on top of him.

“That was good,” he hears Yechan mumble. “Missed that.”

Seongwoong can’t quite miss something he’s never done, but it was definitely something he’d be willing to repeat, and he pets through Yechan’s hair and lets out a shaky, “Yeah.”

But they don’t even get all that much time to relax, not when he hears Jihoon call out from behind the door, “Yechan, where are you?” And then, “I thought you wanted to spectate my Azir!"

Yechan immediately perks up at that, looking over at Seongwoong with eager puppy-dog eyes.

"Go for it," he says with a laugh. "I can clean up, don't worry."

He's in the middle of stripping the sheets off the bed when Sanghyeok walks in, silently watching him as he bundles them together to take to the washer. "Hyung," Sanghyeok starts, before he seems to stumble. "That's what our housekeeper is supposed to do," he says, and Seongwoong's one hundred percent sure that's not what he'd meant to say at first.

"Yeah," he says with a shrug, because after two years of cohabitation with Sanghyeok, he knows better than to try to get him to speak when he's not ready. "Special circumstances."

Sanghyeok's mouth sits in a flat line, but he shifts out of the way when Seongwoong makes to pass him to exit the bedroom, just keeps staring at the empty bed even when Seongwoong passes through the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhh...happy thanksgiving all!!
> 
> rip rox T_________T and rip my grades when I'm writing this instead of studying
> 
> I am also really terrible at writing handjobs rip, so sorry for this disappointment of a thing (that's what practice is for, right??)


	4. just put your lips together and come real close

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god I have a paper due tomorrow that I haven't started and here I am writing porn fml

[(x)](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Cgva0FpU8AQHzHs.jpg)

Son of Bengi, they call him, but there's nothing filial or platonic to the way Jaehyeon pins his hips down, the sly smirk he looks up at Seongwoong with.

"Has hyung done this before?" he asks, playing with the waistband to Seongwoong's pants, resting his face against Seongwoong’s thigh.

Seongwoong stares down at him, still not completely sure about what's happening—how he found himself in this situation in the first place.

"No," he chokes out around the dryness of his throat, can't help but shift his hips up to help Jaehyeon as he pulls Seongwoong's pants and briefs down.

Jaehyeon wraps a hand around the base Seongwoong's cock, giving it one slow stroke as runs his thumb along the slit. "Lucky me," he murmurs before he lowers his head and takes the tip of Seongwoong's cock in his mouth.

Seongwoong can't help the squeak that comes out of his mouth, flushes as Jaehyeon laughs in return. Of all the things he'd expected when Jaehyeon had told him about the surprise he had in store for tonight, this was not one of them—the farthest thing, in fact.

Jaehyeon pulls off to rub soothing circles along Seongwoong's hip with a hand, smile widening. "You're cute, hyung," he says, fond and affectionate and Seongwoong's cheeks are burning by now, "I can't believe no one's done this for you before."

Seongwoong turns to bury his head into the pillows, but he still feels the kiss Jaehyeon lays against his inner thigh, the way Jaehyeon's fingers tighten along the base of his cock. "So cute, hyung," he hears Jaehyeon say again, and it's all the warning he gets before he feels Jaehyeon's mouth on his cock again, sucking hard on the tip. Jaehyeon seems content to lap at the tip of his cock, taking his time to make this the most torturous experience for Seongwoong

He fists his hands into the bedsheets and tries his hardest to resist the urge to thrust up—and even when he fails and does, Jaehyeon's tight grip on his hips don't let him move.

Jaehyeon hums around his cock, finally, _finally_ taking more of Seongwoong in, slowly inching further and further down, stealing Seongwoong’s sanity with him. By the time he has the brainpower to open his eyes and look down, Jaehyeon has just about deep throated him, cock surrounded by perfect, wet tight warmth.

There’s no way he can last for much longer, not when he feels Jaehyeon pull off to suck at the tip again, asks Seongwoong if he would rather come down his throat or on his face—Seongwoong hadn’t realized it was even a _choice_.

“You taste nice, hyung,” Jaehyeon tells him with a cocky grin, doesn’t give Seongwoong a chance to reply when he sinks back down, takes all of Seongwoong back in his mouth again.

All Seongwoong can do is choke over his words, keep up with his desperate, futile attempts to thrust up into Jaehyeon’s mouth, the stimulation eventually enough for him to come. He’s about as attractive as a beached whale, gasping and moaning as Jaehyeon continues to suck, until he finally pulls off and tugs at Seongwoong’s arm, forces him to watch Jaehyeon swallow. Jaehyeon smiles at him again, leans in to kiss him—lets Seongwoong taste himself, he realizes belatedly.

“Good, hyung?” Jaehyeon asks cheekily, and Seongwoong blinks at him, not sure what motivates him to say, “Let me try.”

Jaehyeon looks at him consideringly, cocking his head to the side. “Really, you want to—?” Seongwoong nods, and he laughs. “Okay,” he says easily. “Let me shower first, then.”

-

“It's easy,” Jaehyeon tells him, running his hands through his hair as Seongwoong looks everywhere else in the room other than the cock right in front of his face.

He’s starting to regret asking, feels uncomfortably like this is far, _far_ too advanced for him, but with no idea how to take it back.

“Hyung,” Jaehyeon says gently, a hand runs down to cup his chin, thumb petting at his cheek. “We don’t need to do this if you don’t want to.”

He looks up at Jaehyeon, the fondness in his eyes as he stares down at Seongwoong, and Seongwoong squares his shoulders. “Tell me what to do.”

"Try tasting it," Jaehyeon says, moves both hands back to Seongwoong’s head, keeping them loose and relaxed.

Obediently, he gives the cock a hesitant lick, just along the underside to the tip, and watches it bob with something akin to horror. It's salty and bitter, not exactly the most appetizing of flavors, but the encouraging nod Jaehyeon gives him is enough for him to try again.

The second time isn’t as bad, like he’s somehow getting used to it, and Jaehyeon curls his fingers a little tighter in Seongwoong’s hair and sighs. Seongwoong can see Jaehyeon’s cock start to rise, start to _fill_ , and he tentatively takes the tip in his mouth and sucks, like he’d seen Jaehyeon do for him.

Jaehyeon's cock is heavy on his tongue, and he resists everything in him that tells him to just spit it right back out. At least the groan Jaehyeon lets out does leave him feeling slightly more confident, as if Jaehyeon recognizes the magnitude of this act for him.

“That’s good,” Jaehyeon says, reassuring as always. “You can keep doing that or—”

Seongwoong tries sinking lower, ends up filling his mouth too fast and almost choking, tears beading at the edges of his eyes. He feels one of Jaehyeon’s hands immediately on his shoulder, stopping him from going any further. “Don’t worry, hyung, take your time.”

Sucking Seongwoong's cock had only seemed to embolden Jaehyeon, given him all the power, but Seongwoong feels so completely out of control now, beyond confused and out of his depth. He backs up, until he has just the tip in his mouth, looking up at Jaehyeon for more instructions.

Jaehyeon’s eyes are dark, and his smile down at Seongwoong seems slightly _off,_ almost predatory. “Try again, just slower,” he says softly. “Remember to breathe through your nose.” Seongwoong nods, takes a deep breath in before trying again—Jaehyeon’s hands on his head helping control the pace, until Seongwoong’s back right where he was before he choked.

“You’re so pretty, hyung,” Jaehyeon tells him, soothing. “So good.”

He swallows, brings a hand up wrap around the base and hears Jaehyeon moan from above. He sucks again, cheeks hollowing, rubs at the part of Jaehyeon’s cock he can’t take in with his hand. He makes to pull off Jaehyeon’s cock again, but Jaehyeon’s grip on him is too tight. “Please,” Jaehyeon gasps, voice finally a _little_ off, hoarse and ragged. “Just a little more—”

It’s all the warning Seongwoong gets when Jaehyeon comes in his mouth, and he almost gags on it, swallowing it down before he can even think about it, and it’s so much more bitter than before, almost too much—

Jaehyeon pulls out, drags him up to kiss him. “You were so good,” Jaehyeon pants into his mouth. “So fucking amazing.”

Seongwoong flushes, red coloring his cheeks while he tries to hide it by kissing Jaehyeon again.  

-

Seongwoong’s not sure who decided to assign Jaehyeon and him to the same hotel room, but he doesn’t really care, not when Jaehyeon is so willing to show Seongwoong exactly how good he is with his mouth. And it’s after one of those times, when Seongwoong is curled against Jaehyeon, happily about to doze off when Jaehyeon pokes him in the side.

"Hyung," Jaehyeon's starts almost coyly, uncharacteristically shy as he lightly runs his fingers in circles along Seongwoong's wrist. "Would you want to go any further—"

Sanghyeok doesn't even bother to knock when he ducks his head in this time, barely giving their hotel room a glance as he stares directly at them. "Oh, there you guys are," he says steadily, avoiding Seongwoong's eyes in favor of Jaehyeon’s, and something doesn't quite settle right in his gut. "Junggyun is looking for you two."

Jaehyeon is unusually quiet while they walk over to the practice room, even when he keeps his hand clasped tightly around Seongwoong’s. “Are you okay?” he asks, bumps his shoulder against Jaehyeon’s in hopes to see his usual sunny smile.

“Yeah,” Jaehyeon replies, even when he’s obviously distracted. He turns to Seongwoong to peck him on the cheek, eyes still lost in thought. “Of course, hyung.”

Sanghyeok’s timing was a little eerie, even for Seongwoong who always gives him the benefit of the doubt. But he doesn't bother mentioning it, even when Jaehyeon doesn't bring up the subject ever again, seemingly content with Seongwoong sucking his cock every so often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, porn writing practice, still trying to get better at this thing
> 
> title from flo rida "whistle"


	5. I'll never go back to the not having sex ways of the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> duke doesn't get any context/backstory because this is porn practice and I was severely lacking in pure porn up until this point
> 
>  [the gif that sent me hurtling down this rabbit hole](http://imgur.com/CmK1yyz)

[(x)](http://imgur.com/kL15gBZ)

Hoseong takes his time, kisses down his neck to his stomach and spends what seems like ages tracing the lines of his chest with his fingers. “Have you ever?” he asks, like he expects Seongwoong to just _know_ what he’s talking about—which he doesn’t.

“Probably not,” he says truthfully, and his eyes widen as Hoseong ducks down to kiss one of his nipples, touches the other one gently with his fingers.

He feels a spark of something run down his back, and he shivers when Hoseong licks at it with the flat of his tongue, moan squeaky high in a way he’s never heard it.

“What was that?” he demands, only for his toes to curl as he moans again as Hoseong fucking _sucks_ the nipple in his mouth.

“You like this, don’t you?” Hoseong asks, a hint of a chuckle in his voice, and Seongwoong glares down at him. But then Hoseong tweaks a nipple with his fingers, and Seongwoong can feel how hard he is against Hoseong’s thigh, grinds up against him while moans again.

Hoseong switches to lick at the other nipple with his mouth, wraps a hand around Seongwoong’s cock before suddenly stopping. He brings the hand back up, stares at it in surprise. “Oh,” he says, because yeah, they’ve done the equivalent of heavy petting and Seongwoong is already almost about to come, lightheaded and drunk on arousal and Hoseong’s hand is wet.

Hoseong doesn’t say any more, though, just brings his hand back down to stroke Seongwoong, watches with an almost clinical amusement as he jerks Seongwoong off, the way Seongwoong comes into his hand and collapses into bed.

"You're pretty easy, aren't you," he says in his teasing, curious way. "Somehow I didn't really expect that."

Seongwoong blinks sleepily up at him, waving a hand in Hoseong's general direction, pouting up at him. "Shut up."

Laughing, Hoseong softly pushes the hand away to duck down and kiss Seongwoong. "It's not a bad thing," he says, teasing with the way he draws up to press a kiss against Seongwoong's nose. "I like how sensitive you are."

-

Hoseong's mouth is on his cock, and he lets Seongwoong buck up as much as he wants, only keeps a hand on his hip to control how far he can thrust. Hoseong's mouth is solid, perfect warmth, distracting enough he doesn't realize where Hoseong's other hand is until he feels lube-slick fingers pressing against his hole.

“Is this okay?” Hoseong says, calm and collected in a way Seongwoong hasn’t been this whole time, can’t ever imagine himself being when doing this sort of thing. And he nods, because if that’ll get Hoseong’s mouth back on his cock, he’s willing to try this new, daunting thing.

He gasps, feels Hoseong suck more of him in, toes curling at the burning pressure of the first finger in him. It feels weird, foreign in a way Seongwoong can't decide is good or bad. It almost feels explorative in a way, the way it curls up inside—

The jolt of pleasure hits him before it really registers in his brain, knocking a moan out of him as Hoseong pulls off his cock. He lets out a little whine just as Hoseong pulls his fingers out. "Good?" Hoseong asks, voice hoarse and deep, and Seongwoong can feel lube drip onto his stomach as Hoseong slicks up his fingers again.

He nods in reply, swallows dryly as Hoseong presses three fingers against his hole, a stretch Seongwoong feels more strongly this time. "Lemme know," Hoseong says, lowering his head to lick along the underside of Seongwoong's cock.

His fingers curl up again, and Seongwoong doesn't know what he wants more: to push up into the warmth of Hoseong's mouth or down against his fingers. Either way, he doesn't think Hoseong would let him move, not with the way he has Seongwoong pinned from both sides, trapped him between his hands and his mouth with no intention of allowing him any semblance of control.

Hoseong swallows him completely down unexpectedly, and Seongwoong can’t help the moan that breaks out from his lungs, the helpless thrust of his hips up into Hoseong’s bruising grip. He feels Hoseong hum around his cock, can almost imagine the way he’s probably smirking at the desperate way Seongwoong’s practically whining for him to let him come now—please, _please_ , just a little more—and Hoseong’s fingers press up again, enough pressure to finally tip Seongwoong over the edge.

Hoseong swallows around him, almost on the edge of painful, and Seongwoong pushes at him in protest. Hoseong does pull off, crawls up to kiss Seongwoong’s neck as he runs his hands gently down Seongwoong’s chest.

"Hyung," he whispers, low and husky and with a bit of a laugh. "Are you okay?"

Seongwoong is busy blinking up at the ceiling to pay attention, shifting his gaze down to meet Hoseong’s, letting out a dazed, “Yeah.”

Hoseong smiles at him, still so calm and ordinary—and who else has been tricked by that unassuming smile?

“Good,” he says easily, flicks Seongwoong’s nipple with a finger and Seongwoong squirms at the pressure. Hoseong leans down to kiss him, slow and filthy, as if that’s any distraction to the way Seongwoong can feel Hoseong grind down against Seongwoong. “You’re so cute, hyung.”

Seongwoong's flirted with a lot of boys; it's just a part of who he is. But of all the things he's done with them, this—Hoseong's cock bumping up against the cleft of his ass—is something he's only ever dreamed of, with none of the experience that people seem to expect from him.

But something in him wants it, wants to know how it feels to have Hoseong inside him, to have something more than fingers—to finally see a crack in Hoseong's calm veneer. He reaches out to hug his arms around Hoseong's shoulders, pulls him down to his level, "Please," he says, too awkward and inexperienced to know how to properly ask. He rubs himself against Hoseong instead, which just leaves him feeling more exposed and vulnerable than words alone. "I want—"

That does leave Hoseong shocked, if his wide eyes are anything to go by, the way his hips stop moving. “Hyung,” he says, a little strangled.

He kisses Seongwoong again, more gently this time, slides a hand between Seongwoong’s legs and spreads them wide. He pulls back, “You’re sure?” he asks, eyes staring straight into Seongwoong’s, searching for something Seongwoong desperately wants him to see.

“Yes, please.” He grinds down against Hoseong again, moans a little with how it feels, and something in Hoseong must break because his eyes go a little wild, hands scrabbling at Seongwoong’s hips to pull him flush against his cock.

It’s one slow, torturous push in—uncomfortable at first, but Seongwoong is relaxed enough that it doesn’t hurt, and Hoseong is so careful, so set on making this the most dragged-out, teasing affair possible. Seongwoong has always thought that Hoseong’s concentrating face is cute, but the one he has on now, with his hair slick with sweat flopping down over his eyes, grit teeth and serious eyes, breath coming in pants—this isn’t a Hoseong he’s ever seen before.

But damn, if he isn’t really fucking hot.

He wraps his legs around Hoseong’s back, looks for leverage against the bed to push _back_ , finally finds it and hears Hoseong let out a growl.

“Hyung, fuck,” Hoseong’s voice sounds broken, rough and hoarse, and it’s the most beautiful thing Seongwoong’s heard yet. “You’re so tight—so good.”

Hoseong moves to hover over him, rests his arms on both sides of Seongwoong’s head. Seongwoong tips his head up to kiss him on the chin, and Hoseong’s face breaks into a fond smile, brushes a hand through Seongwoong’s hair and leans down to kiss him again.

That first moment when he realizes Hoseong’s cock is all the way in him—he’s not exactly sure what he expected to feel, but that doesn’t stop the moan he lets out, how full and how fucking _good_ it feels.

Hoseong’s breathing is shallow, like he’s run a marathon without any of the training, muscles straining against Seongwoong, “Can I—”

“Move, please, fuck—”

Hoseong doesn’t need any more prompting, pulls out slowly, gently, only to slide back in just as carefully, and Seongwoongs’s not fucking made of glass, and it’s not _enough—_

“Harder,” he gasps out, drags Hoseong’s head down to kiss him again. “Please.”

Hoseong snaps his hips back, thrusts back harder, still tentative in his movements but _yes_ , this is what Seongwoong needs. His arms slacken around Hoseong’s shoulders, tips his head back while Hoseong leans down to suck a bruise on the underside of his chin.

“You’re impossible,” he hears Hoseong rumble against his neck, feels Hoseong build up to a pace that’s decent enough. “How does anyone resist you?”

He doesn’t bother responding, just moans when Hoseong thrusts in at just the right angle, rubs himself up against Hoseong’s belly while Hoseong laughs and slips a hand down around his cock. It’s good, better than Seongwoong ever imagined, and he has no idea why he’s waited twenty-three long years before finally getting this to happen, and _fuck, fuck_ , Hoseong feels so good in him, jerks him off in just the right way, and he can’t help but gasp out Hoseong’s name while he comes in his hand.

Seongwoong is a little too boneless to completely register the way Hoseong groans above him, ducks his head down against Seongwoong’s neck and bites down on his shoulder as he fucks in a few more times before he comes, considerate as always when he collapses to Seongwoong’s side and avoids crushing him under his weight.

“Hyung,” he hears Hoseong say, even more tired than that one time they decided to pull an all-nighter to practice. “Fuck.”

He laughs, turns his head over to look at Hoseong and throws an arm over at him. “You’re welcome.”

-

Seongwoong’s not saying he’s becoming a sex addict—he’s _not_ , he has his priorities in order and League will always be first in his heart. But that doesn’t mean he can’t sneak off with Hoseong during breaks to get each other off in the bathroom or one of the empty practice rooms or a supply closet—it helps keep him relaxed and in the right mindset.

So when Worlds comes along and Hoseong texts him during practice asking if he wants to take a quick “nap break,” well, who is he to say no?

 

Hoseong has him on his back on the bed this time, sucking him off while he slowly fingers Seongwoong open when he abruptly pulls off, which isn’t so unusual by itself—Hoseong can be such a tease at times—so he does what he knows Hoseong will inevitably ask for. “Please,” he gasps, squirms against Hoseong’s fingers and does his best to fuck himself against them. “Need you—don’t stop.”

“Shh,” Hoseong tells him, kisses him on the thigh before he looks up again, calmly saying, "I know you're there.” He smiles up at someone else who isn't Seongwoong, and oh, god, who would be— "Stop trying to hide. I can see you, Sanghyeok."

Seongwoong startles, dazedly looks up to see Sanghyeok's sheepish face. "Sanghyeok?"

"You were gone so long—" And Seongwoong would have to be blind to not see the way Sanghyeok glances down at where Hoseong's still fucking him open with his fingers. "We still have practice."

Hoseong smiles, and maybe it's this easygoing nature of Hoseong that attracted Seongwoong so strongly. "We'll finish up soon; it'll just be a moment more." As if to punctuate that point, he pulls his fingers out only to roughly push them back in, curls them up just right so Seongwoong nearly whines with the pleasure that jolts up his spine.

When he opens his eyes, Sanghyeok isn't even trying to hide his staring anymore, an unreadable expression on his face. "Unless," Hoseong continues, and he presses a warm hand against Seongwoong's side to catch his attention, looks into his eyes as he says, "Hyung doesn't mind if you help?"

Seongwoong gulps, air suddenly too thin to fill his lungs. But he nods, nods and looks up to see Sanghyeok's eyes take on that greedy glint he gets when he smells first blood on the horizon.

He stalks toward the bed, throws off his jacket and shirt and pulling down his pants while Hoseong scoots a little further away to allow him room. “If you have questions—” Hoseong teases, stops when Sanghyeok glares at him and sits himself between Seongwoong’s spread legs.

And Sanghyeok can project as much confidence as he wants, but Seongwoong’s known him long enough to read the tension in his shoulders, the nervous way he strokes at his cheeks.

In every past romantic endeavor, Seongwoong’s never been the more experienced one—but this time, this time he is. And now he understands how intoxicating it is to feel in control, to feel so confident and easy in his assertiveness. He takes Sanghyeok’s hands in his own, smiles up at him. “It’s okay,” he says, pulls him down so Sanghyeok’s lying flat against him, runs a hand up Sanghyeok’s arm and shoulder to cup his cheek and kiss him.

He can feel Hoseong’s hand slowly sneak its way up his leg, soft gentle touches against the sensitive skin at the crease of his thigh. “You’re doing well,” Hoseong offers, and Sanghyeok looks back at him, almost offended.

He twists Seongwoong around until his back is to Hoseong, so the only face he can see is Sanghyeok’s. "Look at me," he says with the same commanding tone he asks for ganks with, like he’s given Seongwoong any other choice.

He hears Hoseong laugh behind him, a deep rumble from his stomach that vibrates against Seongwoong’s back. “Selfish,” Hoseong says, and Seongwoong feels Hoseong drape an arm over his waist. “Didn’t you ever learn to share?”

Sanghyeok doesn’t even deign to answer, leaning in to kiss Seongwoong, fingers tight around Seongwoong’s neck and pressing him closer. Sanghyeok’s always been a fast learner, so Seongwoong isn’t that surprised at Sanghyeok’s fast-improving technique, but the urgency and desperation Sanghyeok unloads on him is new, the possessive way he touches Seongwoong like he wants to own him completely.

Hoseong’s hand inches forward again, curls around Seongwoong’s cock and slowly strokes him while he gasps into Sanghyeok’s mouth, thrusts up into Hoseong’s grip.

Sanghyeok abruptly pulls away, narrows his eyes as he glares at where Hoseong is still jerking Seongwoong off. “I don’t _want_ to share.”

Instead of replying, Hoseong just presses a kiss against Seongwoong’s shoulder where he still has marks leftover from their last hookup, starts sucking another bruise into the skin there. It’s all a show to egg Sanghyeok on, in the same vein of taunts like when Hoseong teases Sanghyeok about solo queue or his terrible jokes. He can feel Sanghyeok tense next to him, and he sighs and leans in to press their foreheads together. “Hey,” he says softly, runs a hand soothingly along Sanghyeok’s side. “It’s okay.”

“He’s had you alone—they’ve _all_ had you alone,” Sanghyeok says viciously, eyes dark as he stares at Seongwoong. He brings a hand up, rests the backs of his fingers against Seongwoong’s cheek and whispers the last part so quietly that Seongwoong barely catches it, “ _I_ want you.”

Alone.

It doesn’t need to be said, and something in Seongwoong _jerks_. “You were there, all those times.” Sanghyeok stays eerily still—doesn’t blink, doesn’t twitch, doesn’t even move a muscle. “You didn’t say a thing.”

“I—” Sanghyeok looks at a loss, like he vaguely wants to protest but without any words to back him up. In the end, all he says is a meek, “I liked it,” and there are so many more questions Seongwoong wants to ask but he just leans in, kisses Sanghyeok again and mentally shelves _that_ conversation for later.

Hoseong lightly bites against the skin on the back of Seongwoong’s neck, a gentle reminder of his presence, and he turns his head to kiss Hoseong—a thank you for his patience and to assure him that Seongwoong knows he’s still there.

"We really do have to get back to practice soon,” Hoseong says. “So unless you have any more objections?”

With what seems like a great deal of reluctance, Sanghyeok nods, and Hoseong moves his hands back to wrap around Seongwoong’s cock. This time, though, he pulls Sanghyeok’s hands to join him, wraps Sanghyeok’s fingers around Seongwoong’s cock and Seongwoong can practically feel his smile against his shoulder. “Why don’t you try?”

The first tentative squeeze of Sanghyeok’s hands sends Seongwoong’s head tipping back, moaning and gasping while Hoseong laughs behind him. “See? He’s really easy—so sensitive, you know? It’s better to go slower.”

Seongwoong nearly whines when Sanghyeok loosens his grip, pathetically tries to push his hips against him even when he doesn’t have the leverage. Hoseong kisses behind his ear, traces a finger down from the glans of his cock to the base, makes sure to keep his touch light and teasing and Seongwoong wants to curse him to hell and back. “I thought you said we were in a _hurry_ —”

Hoseong’s finger doesn’t stop at the base of his cock, keeps its leisurely pace as he drags it over Seongwoong’s balls, along his perineum until it stops at the curve of his ass. “That doesn’t mean we don’t have time to enjoy ourselves,” Hoseong says casually, brushes his finger against Seongwoong’s hole, and he can’t help the way his spine arches against it, the way his toes curl at Hoseong’s touch.

Seongwoong gulps, swallowing around a dry throat. “Oh,” he says, anticipation growing in his stomach as Hoseong moves the finger away and replaces it with his cock, grinding against him. When it becomes clear that Hoseong isn’t going to go any further, he huffs in frustration, “You tease.”

Sanghyeok pulls on his cock, pulls Seongwoong’s attention right back to him, and something dark and terrifying—yet still intoxicatingly arousing—curls in his stomach at the thought of being pinned between Sanghyeok and Hoseong, stuck and used without any way to move.

“Be good and maybe another time,” Hoseong whispers in his ear, like he can read Seongwoong’s mind. “Can’t now.” Not unless Seongwoong wants to spend the next five hours of practice shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

Sanghyeok works a hand around Seongwoong's neck, pulls him away from Hoseong to kiss him again while he rubs his cock against Seongwoong's. He keeps his grip tight while he strokes them both, moans quietly into Seongwoong’s mouth, eyes squeezed shut. They’re at the wrong angle for anything quick or dirty, but that’s fine with Seongwoong, who loses himself in the sensation of Sanghyeok’s long, smooth fingers around his cock, of Hoseong’s breath against the back of his neck.

Sanghyeok searches his mouth out when he comes, hand tightening around both their cocks leaving Seongwoong to almost choke on his own orgasm. Hoseong lasts longer, mumbling something incoherent against Seongwoong’s shoulder when he finishes. It’s not exactly the quick fling Seongwoong had expected when they’d first stepped into the room—but he’s not complaining with how it ended.

It’s been barely a minute before Hoseong speaks up, “Back to practice,” he says breezily, sounding barely winded.

Seongwoong rolls over to side-eye him. “Speak for yourself, I need a real nap after this.”

He feels someone tugging at his arm, and when he looks over, Sanghyeok has already snuggled closer and made himself comfortable, sleepily mumbling out, “You’re too loud.”

Hoseong wiggles out of bed before he can stop him, looks down fondly at them while he walks off to the bathroom. “I would’ve expected more stamina from two-time world champions,” he says lightly, coming back with a few wet towels to clean up.

Seongwoong lifts his arms up, watches Hoseong sigh as he helps pull Seongwoong up into sitting position. “Lazy.”

He doesn’t bother hiding his smile. “Carry me,” he says, wrapping his arms around Hoseong’s neck and planting a messy kiss against his cheek.

Sanghyeok makes an irritated noise, looking up at them. “Where are you going?”

“Bathroom,” Seongwoong says, leans down to press a kiss to Sanghyeok’s forehead. “I need a shower.”

Hoseong sighs again. “What am I, your personal chauffeur?” That doesn’t stop him from lifting Seongwoong out of bed, but into a bridal carry that has Seongwoong letting out an embarrassing squeak.

“Why like this?” he complains, but Hoseong just shrugs and smiles back down at him.

“You wanted me to carry you, didn’t you?” he asks, leaning down to kiss Seongwoong on the nose. “You never specified how.”

And honestly, it’s kind of comfortable to be wrapped up in Hoseong’s arms, feel Hoseong’s heart beat against his chest and rest his head against Hoseong’s shoulder.

“Only this once.” And it sounds weak and noncommittal even to him.

“Sure,” Hoseong says easily, hefts him up in one smooth motion. “Whatever you say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from the lonely island ft. akon "i just had sex"
> 
> would you believe me when I say all the faker in this fic was accidental. Like I had everything planned and then e and I were talking about voyeur faker and suddenly he showed up in this part, which meant I had to write him into every part to make sense and oh my god my notes for this fic are literally:
> 
> “Piglet - holding hands  
> Impact - kiss  
> Scout - network sex  
> T0M - bj  
> Duke - the do (all at once, now)  
> Faker - ?? snuck in here, the giant cockblock”


	6. save a horse, ride a cowboy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M FINALLY DONE, FREE OF BENGAY

[(x)](http://imgur.com/2P9zOtR)

After the chaos that is the World Finals, Seongwoong loses track of his team for periods at a time as reporters pull members away for interviews and the crowds threaten to overwhelm them. Especially Sanghyeok, finally officially crowned as a Worlds MVP, who Seongwoong hasn’t seen since they lifted the cup together as a team, left behind on stage for that last MVP interview.

It turns out he didn’t need to bother looking, because Sanghyeok finds him instead, sneaks into his hotel room before they’re off to head out for their celebratory dinner and asks him where Jaewan is.

Seongwoong blinks, a little distracted when he looks up from his phone. “With Sungu, I think? They wanted to hang out until we headed out.”

“Good.” Before he can say anything else, Sanghyeok’s already on the bed with him, pulling his phone away and kissing him.

Seongwoong sighs into it, going limp as Sanghyeok tilts his head back to suck a bruise into his collar. “Where’s Hoseong?”

He opens his eyes, looks down at Sanghyeok’s serious frown and laughs. Sanghyeok’s possessiveness and jealousy is still cute, something Seongwoong can’t help teasing him about at times, but they’ve just won Worlds and he’s feeling a little lenient today. “Back in his room with Junsik,” he says, can’t help it when he adds, “You were so busy with your interviews, so—”

If anything, Sanghyeok’s eyes narrow even more, rips away the covers to glare down at the new marks Hoseong’s made along his chest. Seongwoong doesn’t manage to get another word out, chokes on them as Sanghyeok dives down to cover them with his mouth.

“That hurts,” he protests, and Sanghyeok softly kisses his way back up Seongwoong’s neck to his lips, and Seongwoong will gladly take that as an apology.

“What did you guys do?” Sanghyeok asks, hands petting down Seongwoong’s sides, stroking along his thighs.

Seongwoong shrugs. “Not much,” which Sanghyeok eyes him incredulously for. His fingers start inching further back, over Seongwoong’s balls and towards his ass and Seongwoong sighs. “Yes, that.”

“How is that _not much_?” Sanghyeok spits out, eyes narrowed further even as Seongwoong squirms in his grasp, fingers pressing against Seongwoong’s hole. It takes a second, but Sanghyeok’s eyes finally widen, mouth dropping open a little, “Wait, you’re still—”

Seongwoong smiles sweetly up at him. “Ready for you.”

Sanghyeok doesn’t bother saying anything, tips his head down to kiss Seongwoong again, lines his cock up against Seongwoong’s ass to slide between his thighs. And that’s not _bad_ , but Seongwoong has been waiting for a while, wants more.

“Hurry,” he whines, arches his back into it.

Sanghyeok looks down at him leans in to whisper into Seongwoong’s ear. “Hyung,” he murmurs, breathless but insistent. "Tell me what you want." He rubs his cock against Seongwoong's hole, teasing with a confidence Seongwoong would never have expected from him even just days ago. "Say my name."

Seongwoong curls his fingers around Sanghyeok's neck, pulls his head up to look him in the eye. "Sanghyeok," he says steadily, because he doesn’t have time to feel ashamed. "Fuck me."

He watches Sanghyeok’s pupils dilate, follows the way his throat bobs as he swallows. “Oh,” Sanghyeok says, seemingly frozen in place while Seongwoong easily flips them over, wraps one hand around Sanghyeok’s cock to steady it as he grinds down against it a few times—just to tease, give Sanghyeok a taste.

He leaves one hand against Sanghyeok’s chest for balance, smiles down at him as he finally slides down on Sanghyeok’s cock, lets out a satisfied moan as he fully seats himself. It’s something that’s always fucked Hoseong up a little, and it’s the same with Sanghyeok, whose eyes darken to something wild, grip on Seongwoong’s hips tightening.

“Hyung,” he says, voice strained. “You’re—”

“ _You’re_ too slow,” Seongwoong completes, sighs as he rocks his hips in small circles against Sanghyeok until he finds the right angle that hits _just_ right. “And a tease.”

Sanghyeok looks a little too fucked out to reply, so he keeps going. “This is better than watching, right?” he asks, can’t help digging at that sore point as Sanghyeok’s eyes sharpen at the mention of his _habit_. “You finally have me alone.”

“ _Mine_ ,” Sanghyeok growls with renewed energy, grabs at Seongwoong’s hips to slam them down as he thrusts up, and _fuck_ if that’s not at the right angle. Seongwoong gasps as Sanghyeok pushes up into sitting position, taking Seongwoong with him until he’s in Sanghyeok’s lap, practically bouncing on Sanghyeok’s cock while Sanghyeok savagely fucks up into him. “I’ve seen you,” he whispers in Seongwoong’s ear. “You like it like this, don’t you?”

Seongwoong _does_ , almost to a shameful degree, and he drops his head to rest against Sanghyeok’s shoulder. “Harder,” he breathes out, wants to _feel_ all of Sanghyeok in him. “Show me what a Worlds MVP is capable of.”

Sanghyeok pulls his head away, frowning at him. "I know what you're doing," he warns, even when Seongwoong can feel the way his breath quickens, knows he’s getting off on this just as much as Seongwoong is.

"Sure." Seongwoong smiles at him. "So what're you going to do about it?"

Sanghyeok leans in to kiss him, biting at his lips, possessive and angry while Seongwoong sighs into it, so distracted he doesn't realize Sanghyeok is still leaning forward and tipping them over, not until his back hits the mattress and Sanghyeok is hovering over him.

"I want you to come on my cock," he says, face flushing as the words must register with him, makes to pull away—but fuck if Seongwoong is going to let him stop now, and he drags Sanghyeok right back.

"Finish it.”

Sanghyeok blusters for a bit, before finally blurting, "Just my cock," barely above a whisper, and Seongwoong doesn’t know if he’s been more turned on, wants to fulfill that challenge so badly.

He pulls Sanghyeok face down, kisses him before murmuring, “You’re going to have to try a little harder then.”

He watches Sanghyeok’s eyes narrow—he’s always been cute when angry and frustrated—but then he starts fucking Seongwoong in earnest, almost too fast for him to breathe. He arches back, goes limp as Sanghyeok speeds up his pace, frantic in his movements while Seongwoong sighs, lies back and takes it all.

“Does that feel better, _hyung_ ,” Sanghyeok asks like a challenge, smirking in that stupid cheeky brat way of his. But Seongwoong can’t complain, not when it feels so damn _good_ , and he just digs his nails into Sanghyeok’s back, scratches them down while Sanghyeok hisses.

“Going to have to do better if you want me to come,” he says breezily, and Sanghyeok ducks down to worry another bruise against Seongwoong’s collar, head dipping further and further down until he’s sucking one of Seongwoong’s nipples into his mouth and he can’t help the squeak that makes it out of his mouth.

“Stop,” he protests, but Sanghyeok doesn’t stop, makes sure to lean to the other side to lick there, keeps fucking into Seongwoong in just the right place and he sobs with the stimulation.

“You dirty fucking cheater,” he curses, but Sanghyeok just looks up at him to smirk again, the picture of spoiled contentment. “Did Hoseong tell you—”

His voice breaks as he comes, vision going hazy as he distantly feels Sanghyeok continue to fuck him through it.  He vaguely hears himself continue to curse Sanghyeok through it, until he’s gasping out, “ _fuck, fuck, fuck you_ ,” when Sanghyeok leans down to kiss him, feels something wet and hot in him and _fuck_.

“You did it,” Sanghyeok whispers in his ear. “Did it for me.”

Seongwoong can’t even feel embarrassed. “You _cheater_ ,” he says instead, lets Sanghyeok kiss him again, slow and languid. “You’re cleaning up.”

He doesn’t need to look at Sanghyeok to hear the smile in his voice. “Of course, hyung.” Seongwoong feels Sanghyeok rest his head against his chest. “Just a small break first, okay?”

He sighs, and settles himself in for the wet spot he will most definitely wake up to. “Okay,” he says, wraps his arms around Sanghyeok who mumbles happily against his shoulder. “Only a small one though, okay?”

Of course, Sanghyeok’s already asleep by the time he asks it, no answer available.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from big & rich "save a horse (ride a cowboy)"

**Author's Note:**

> there was supposed to be something about how all the people bengi hooks up with are younger but more experienced/confident than him, but I just gave up on where exactly _that_ was going and used repetition instead just because that’s what I do
> 
> and for people wondering, “what repetition?” I’m referring to all the different ways people say “hyung” to bengi and how that semi-reflects on their personality
> 
> ty e, for forcing me to finish this through all of the work/studying/pain/etc. in my life, here is your bengay (with added voyeur faker ALL BECAUSE OF YOU GDI)
> 
> edit 11/28/16: literally two days after I finish this fic and skt announces that duke & bengi are leaving (along with pooh, but b e n g i), what the fuck is this. four years on skt, bengi, thank you for everything, I know you're wonderful and you're going to do amazing things, but ndsjkfmdskfmsdkfsdmfkdsfjkdsnfdsjkf I'm going to watch this all stars with tears in my eyes


End file.
